An Unwarranted Sense of Importance
by Burnedtoasty
Summary: In which, Cable decides to save the world, and the world objects.


**Title**: An Unwarranted Sense of Importance, Or How Cable Fixed the World  
**Disclaimer**: _I, in no way, shape, manner, or form, own the Marvel universe, or any and all characters said universe contains. 'Cable and Deadpool' is copyrighted to Marvel Studios, and the respective owners. No infringement intended.  
_**Fandom**: Marvel  
**Continuity**: _Cable and Deadpool_, 'Enema of the State' (#15-18) Brother!Nate AU  
**Characters**: Wade Wilson/Deadpool, Nathan Summers/Cable  
**Warnings**: AU  
**Summary**: In which, Cable decides to save the world, and the world objects.  
**Author's Note**: Criticism encouraged.

--

Providence was silent.

This, in and of itself, was only _somewhat_ unsettling (given the circumstances), and, truthfully, deserving only a footnote in an already bonkered day, but it caught Wade off guard nonetheless. Normally, the island was filled with noise, a cacophony of what was kindly described as intellectual, and more appropriately as annoying drivel, rising over the constant hum of conversation, debate, theoretical gobbledygook. But now… nothing, zilch, nada, nil, zip. It was all dead air; heavy, still, so thick with a dormant power that it almost felt solid. The further he got along into Providence, the harder it seemed to breathe, each inhalation settling like oil in his bottoms of his lungs, making him feel unwieldy and off-balance. Sound didn't seem to carry, not even the scuffle of his boots on the stairs, or the creak of his gloves as he readjusted his grip on his rifle's grip ('satisfaction guaranteed'). Only the hallway lights were on in all the island, otherworldly and blue, throwing his shadow on all sides, tall as giants.

He didn't bother skulking through the shadows; Nate knew he was here, had _let _him in through his telekinetic barrier even though he must have known, must have seen Wade hop off the SHIELD transporter onto the landing pad of Providence. It was obvious why, glaringly obvious, but still no resistance, no fight, and, despite it all, that was a little too freaky in Wade's mind. After all, Nate had never shown any extreme disinclination to send Wade on a one-way trip to orbit whenever Deadpool had stepped all over the messiah head-trip _before_.

And it was just so damn quiet.

Wade hummed the theme from _X-Files_ under his breath, just to be an ass.

He supposed it was a bit of an insult and a privilege to be ignored; after all, Cable had not hesitated in the slightest to send Captain America and the Avengers flying as soon as they came in range, again and again and again on televisions the world over. Had rebuffed every confused world leader's shouts of consternation and missiles quite simply _disappeared, _leaving nothing but thin trails of smoke. Providence was impregnable, a fortress unto itself, sliced off from the world it was creeping over. But Deadpool was welcome, because Deadpool was a good boy and refrained from tossing grenades at the civilians and _Wade_ wouldn't just up and shoot Nate in the head just because Nick Fury asked real nice and there were a hell of a lot of zeros after that nine. Oh, my, no.

There were two Cables in his life, and only one had Nick at Nite and Bea Arthur. It really wasn't a contest.

Grinning as he reached the top of the stairs, only a hallway away from Nate's personal balcony, Wade cocked his gun obnoxiously and drew in a deep breath.

"Oh _Priiiissy_, I'm hooooome!"

He paused for a moment, tense with something approaching expectancy for a psychic backlash or an explosion centering on his skull or just a little gruff laugh, slipped out before his lips could catch it. Naturally, nothing happened. The lights remained blue, the walls didn't move, and he was still standing. He wasn't going to just turn around and go home because they'd taken a few hits for each other. Wade knew right from wrong, most of the time, and this was, he was at least sixty percent certain, strongly in the category of morally wrong. What is megalomania, Alex, for two hundred.

Wade casually strolled to Nate's room, shoving the door aside with a roll of his shoulder, finger slipping to the trigger mostly by habit. The room was just as quiet as outside, well-put together and organized with charming anal retentiveness, little knick-knacks and scattered curios sitting idle in their cabinets. Nothing particularly out of the ordinary, no looming super computers or test-tubes of dubious nature. Just as dull as he remembered. "Nate? Naty-poo? Nate-oh-nana-bo-fana-fee-fi-fo-fana?"

There was a subtle vibration, a distinct warbleto the air unique to telekinetics the world over, and Wade felt a portion of weighty attention suddenly placed upon him. A nervous chill tingled through the pads of his fingers, an almost electrical urge to shoot first and ask questions later, and he swaggered outside like there was not something terribly fucked up about this whole _thing_. "You got some 'splainin' to do."

"Wade. I'm glad you're here for this."

Craning back his head, Wade watched Cable descend from on high, wreathed in light and a fresh sheen of sweat on his bare chest, a testament to effort Wade had never really seen before. He smiled exhaustedly, reaching up like he might have put his hand on Wade's shoulder but thought better of it, and turned to the sea, and the hulking ships that swayed in the distance. He looked proud, folding his hands behind his back and standing at the edge of the balcony, watching the SHIELD helicarrier hover out over the assembled navies of the world, impotent as the clouds. "It's going to be beautiful."

Deadpool didn't follow after him. "Yeah, 'bout that," he began, with enough cheek to make it seem like situation normal, "Guys up top aren't too happy with the Rule the World routine. And, jeez, Nate, I thought you had some class. You could at least try something original. Like taking over Wisconsin. Nobody wants Wisconsin anyways." He made himself grin, shrugging like it didn't matter. "Heck, I'll help you."

"They sent you to stop me," Nate sighed, though it wasn't a question. He sounded… worn-out? Displeased? Uncertain? It was always hard to tell which was which when Nate went 'all-knowing' and got his head all inflated.

"Yup," Wade replied brightly despite an overwhelming urge to punch Cable in the face, lifting his rifle in a gesture that was just on this side of threatening. "Getting paid time and a half for this little fiasco. But I figure, I'll give you the benefit of a doubt and let you come quietly. So, why don't you just be a pal and put all those shields down before I start breaking heads?"

Nate didn't seem inclined to hear him, contemplatively tilting his head to glance at Wade over his human shoulder. "Because you're the only person I would let in. I'm surprised they couldn't see what I am doing is the only way, the right way. I told them, I explained, but they attacked me. It is… off-putting."

"They're Avengers. It's what they do," The rifle edged up, the butt coming to rest on Wade's shoulder. "Come on, Nate. Stop it."

"They protect the world. They should have been on my side," Nate bowed his head, hurt of all things, and walked along the railing, a taunting, glowing target to the far flung ships. They were all probably watching, with spy satellites and snipers and their attention was a weight Wade couldn't shake. After all, it wasn't every day Captain freaking America and his merry band asked you to go save the earth from what may or may not be your best bud. Oh, yeah, no pressure.

"I suppose it was to be expected, with their linear thinking. Their opposition is ultimately of no great concern."

The ground seemed to shudder without moving, the waves below kicking up higher, white foam striking against the barrier Cable had created. Wade staggered back, something sharp pushing against him, his mental walls, and felt Cable catch him with telekinesis, like a friendly hand pressed between his shoulder blades. It was more intimate than he wanted, at the moment, a reminder of what was best left alone.

"I _am_ right."

Wade snorted, shaking off the psychic hand and stalking around behind Cable's back, something half-formed and dangerous in the way he moved. "Hate to break it to ya, bud, but as of the moment you're public enemy number one. And, much as your mug shot amuses me, I hate playing second fiddle, and you're making a lot of folks real antsy. I'm only gonna say this once: stop dicking around and back off before this gets ugly."

Nate seemed honestly surprised, turning on his heel. He held out both hands, to embrace or protest or plead, and took a step toward Deadpool. Almost anguished, he spoke with a softness that was all wrong, twisted, "Don't you understand? I'm saving the world."

Something brushed Wade's jaw gently, more a suggestion of a touch than anything, as insubstantial as thought, and that familiar, sharp ache rose up in Wade's mind again, sly as a knife between the ribs.

Wade skipped back, rifle snapping up, his eye lining with the scope, dead center on Nate's face, his glowing eye, and it was completely _off, _like he was going sideways. "I'm not stupid, Nate. I mean, I'm stupid, but I'm not _stupid_."

A tense moment came and went, and Nate's expression twisted.

"It has already worked for Providence. Is it so wrong to want peace? To make everyone happy? To make everything better? I only have to push them a little, make them see it, then they will only do what is natural," He ran a hand through his hair agitatedly, belatedly showing his cards before he could catch himself. Collecting himself despite the slip, he rubbed his T-O arm absently, like it was a wound or something to be placated. "We were on the brink of war. I am merely averting disaster. I am _right_. Why can't you understand that?"

"See, it's that 'make' word I'm having the problem with. You can't _make_ the world do anything," Wade spat from behind the comfort of a gun, knowing if he was going to take the shot he would have already done it.

Cable smiled.

"Can't I?" The glow around him intensified, and he drifted upward, above Wade and Providence and anything approaching morality, facing out into the world, the terrible world he was making and _why wasn't Wade shooting yet_? The air shuddered again, becoming thicker, oppressive, and the ships on the horizon began rocking frenziedly back and forth, heaving desperately against the ocean.

"Get down, Nate."

Mildly, Nate glanced down at him, more amused than anything. "Why?"

"_Get down_, goddamnit!" His finger squeezed down, not enough, not enough, entire arm shaking, and, God if Nate didn't stop it, stop this bullshit right now, he was going to—to—

"Are you going to stop me? You'd have to kill me. I'm not sure if you can."

"What do you—" Wade broke off, breathing hard. Just a little more pressure and… what? Watch the bullet bounce off of Nate like a putz? Did he have a shield up around himself? Or was he already pushed to his absolute limits – would he go down? Either way was a bad way, a lose-lose not matter how he spun it, and he hated it when things couldn't be solved with a slug to the head and a witty one-liner. "This isn't right."

"Isn't it?" Cable convulsed, grimacing, then forced that small, oh-so-superior curve back to his lips. "Providence was the small-scale, the test. I am confident I can do this. All the world needs is a guiding hand. It has the potential to be perfect."

"Whose hand? Your hand? What makes you so qualified?" Giving up the ghost, Wade let his rifle fall down to his side, jabbing upward with his free hand accusingly. "I don't see you sporting a résumé with 'upper management skills' on it."

"I know what the world needs," Cable grunted, licking his lips, quivering with the strain of it. He was so powerful, too powerful for his own good.

"You don't. Nobody does. You can't save the world like this. It's not—it's not supposed to be like—it's not _right_."

Hissing through his teeth, Cable made a curt gesture, a flick of his fingers and suddenly Wade was in the air, feet kicking uselessly for the ground. "Please, don't try to play at morality now, Wade. You've never been so concerned before, and you of all people know what it's like out there. How bad it has gotten. Are you saying world peace is so terrible? Helping people? Ending prejudices?"

"No—yes! Not like this! The world's just fine all back asswards – if it ain't broke, don't fix it and all that garbage."

Cable closed his eyes, and if it were anyone else, Wade would say he was close to crying, screaming, and Nate whispered, "Can't you see? It _is_ broken. It's all broken," and flinched, blood starting pour from his nose, his mouth. His eyes rolled back until it was just the broken blood vessels and the white, his back arching in a pained curve. "I—I have to."

Floundering with the air like he was treading water, Wade strained for him, to shake him or strangle him, he wasn't really sure which. "Nate, stop. _Stop_."

"It will be better, Wade. Just watch. I will make everything better," Nate jerkily turned his head, and his eyes were full of kindness, earnest and warm when they didn't have any right to be. "Please… just watch."

Wade made a low, conflicted sound, that sharp ache rising again, in his head, all around, everything going still.

He looked at Nate, and let the world go away.


End file.
